


If You Could See My Thoughts You Would See Our Faces

by eddiestenbrough



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cute Reddie, Drinking, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mentions of Smut, Mike&Eddie Are Besties, No Penywise, Pastel Eddie Kaspbrak, Pre-Collage, Stans a Cuddly Bean, Swearing, The Losers Club
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 14:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13460379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eddiestenbrough/pseuds/eddiestenbrough
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak always knew there was someone out there for him.Someone who would care for him and love him, (but not like his mother, God no). Someone who would support him, cherish him and never fail to make him smile.Eddie knew this.And he always knew that this someone was no other than his good friend, Richie Tozier. So why did he block it with a toxic relationship which held him back from happiness? Richie was about to find out.





	1. Unsay These Spoken Words

Text Message  
From, Eddie Spaghetti: please come over Rich, the window’s open as always

Before fully processing the message, the dark-haired boy hopped off of his bed and made his way out of the house, ignoring the shouting feud his parents shared behind and hurried towards a rusty, blue Jeep that stood in its everyday habitat in the driveway in front of him.

As he entered, various smells of cherry filled his senses. A low tune played inside the vehicle as he drove.  
Soon, Richie was climbing through a familiar window frame. He noticed a rather large looking bed with a small person with messy hair in tears spread out horrifyingly in the middle of it.

His face was buried in the palms of his hands with only delicate whimpers escaping his purple lips.

“Shit.” He cursed. “Eddie?” left his mouth as he jogged up to the bed and sat on the edge of it, trying not to rock it too hard.

Worries fled through his mind and unpleasant scenarios whizzed deep in his thoughts, still getting nothing but sniffles in return. Gently, he brought his pointing finger to the boy’s chin, lifting it slightly. Messy smears of red blotches cascaded from his hooded eyes, leaving Richie in shock.

“You gotta talk to me.” He exhaled worriedly.

Once again, Eddie let out a cry however this time, he hid himself inside of Richie’s jean jacket. Weak arms clung onto the denim material as if it were a loose string of rope and he was hanging from a cliff.

There was something about his sobs that made the situation almost dangerous. It sounded, to Richie’s ears, like the petit boy held back rivers of tears, too afraid to let them flow because it’ll shatter his soul into bits. Richie knew this pain like the back of his hand: heartbreak.

With one swift motion, Richie picked him up and carried him to an en suite bathroom then sat him down on the shut toilet seat and switched the light on.

The sudden rays of brightness made Eddie’s eyes itch, but he hadn’t dared to rub them for any longer, already thinking of himself as a red racoon.

Once he had adjusted to the surroundings, his gaze focused on the person in front of him – currently holding a piece of white cloth to wipe the tears off of his face but instead of letting Richie do so, Eddie hid his face from his view, ashamed he had seen him in this state.

No one, not even his mother, had ever seen Eddie Kaspbrak fall apart. He was too afraid. Afraid of the judgement that comes along with it. His mentality told him that sadness is weakness and of all things, Eddie was not weak.

Timidly, he took the material from Richie’s warmth and started wiping it roughly against the fragile freckles that laid across his nose and cheekbones.

The thing he was feared was Richie’s opinion on the situation. Eddie found himself wondering why he hadn’t texted someone else, probably Beverly – maybe even Mike, he didn’t really know why Richie was the first person he thought of but awhile it lasted, he was glad it came to him.

Richie wouldn’t judge me, Eddie secretly hoped, although he knew that questions were being asked in the opposing boy’s head.

The thing he appreciated though, was that Richie didn’t allow those questions to come out. He just stood above him, watching desperately as Eddie cried into himself more and more by the minute.  
To be honest, Richie had no _fucking_ clue what to do. He’d never been the type to comfort someone and being brought up in a house like his, he himself was surprised he even made it to Eddie’s house. But now, he was there, watching the honey-eyed boy fall apart completely in front of him. After a while he was over it. No more of him could watch Eddie drown in his tears, he was too worthy to do so.  
“Eds.” Richie realized that the tone of his voice was sharp yet comfortingly concerned; almost enough to soften the sobs.

So close, he thought aloud, making Eddie stiffen. took in a sharp inhale.

“Rich,” Eddie tried. Every word that found its way out after was mumbles tied with ugly sniffles. After a moment, Eddie brought himself together to say, “R-Richie.”

The panic in his voice made Richie’s curly head spin. The thought of Eddie in pain haunted him, he, out of everyone, was never one to break down crying from displeasure or show displeasure for that matter.

Unless it came to how dirty Richie’s glasses were, or when Ben wouldn’t stop blabbing on about how magnificent Beverly’s smile looked during fourth period on Tuesdays or when they ordered pizza with mushrooms on it. Or when Mike begged to watch Big Daddy for the seventeenth time during a sleepover at Bill’s… or perhaps Eddie did show displeasure a lot but not like this.

This was very different and it scared Richie a lot.

Out of order, Eddie slid his little body off of the toilet seat and covered his face one more time, but he wasn’t bothered about Richie’s opinion anymore.

Richie just stood and watched him, confusion and concern written on his face. He watched him with a pale face and a blank mind. He watched Eddie like Charlie watched a penny on the ground for a chocolate bar from his favourite childhood movie: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, ready to buy his prize.

But that wasn’t what Richie thought, he didn’t think of Eddie as a prize. He was _too damn good_ to be labelled as anything. Anything but Richie’s everything.

He slowly brought his large, skinny hands to the back of Eddie’s head and caressed it like the growing hairs on were silk. It smelled like ground cinnamon and sugar spice, he smelled so freaking homily, Richie remembered what home felt like.

The scent brought him back in time to a Thanksgiving dinner he once shared with his dad, mom, older sister Lily and his best friend’s Bill’s family.

He recalled how their families cracked jokes (probably where the whole ‘Richie Tozier’s my name and jokes are my game’ thing started) and seemed so happy. Everything was so much different when you’re seven years young, he thought.

Everything was so simple. Another sharp intake of breath tore his longing memories from reality. His vision fixed on the shattered boy in front of him.  
He noticed Eddie’s usually honey brown orbs turned low and bloodshot, that the bags under his eyes now travelled down his face to reach just above the tip of his nose; his pink lips tinted a dark purple shade. He was a mess.

The most beautiful mess Richie’s eyes have ever laid upon.

“I- I need to g-go. I need to leave Derry.” He whimpered.

Soon, Richie’s patience cut the line and he rubbed the bridge of his nose nervously before speaking, “Eddie, please just tell me what the hell happened. I’m going out of my freaking mind!” he said sternly, his gaze focused on Eddie’s eyes.

They were completely drained – must have been for hours. In this moment, Richie promised himself to never let Eddie get to this state in his life ever again, because he might just have a heart attack at the sight of tears in Eddie’s beautiful eyes.

“Why do you wanna leave? What happened? Is it about your mom?” Richie pleaded, knowing how badly Mrs. K affected Eddie sometimes. He couldn’t stand to see his Eddie like this, the boy had no control over his own body. Storms of tears streamed from his eyes per minute and he couldn’t do anything about it.

Eddie took his last inhale before choking out, “I can’t. Stay here. Please.”  
“It’s Jake. He… he did something… Rich. He did something to me…” Eddie hesitated, and Richie’s blood _fucking boiled_ at the sound of that stupid name.

“I know it’s late but… take me somewhere. Ben’s car broke down and Bill wasn’t picking up (he lied). Please, Chee.” Without second thought, Richie squeezed Eddie’s hand in assurance before smiling pearly teeth at him.

“Get ready, pack whatever you need to pack, and I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Just remember, remember I’m gonna be here for you and help you get through. Okay, Eddie?” He assured and brought Eddie into his rough denim covered arms. They exchanged smiles, went back into Eddie’s dim-lit room.

After gathering his keys into his back-jean pocket, Richie climbed out of the wooden window with a calmed expression on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey dudes, this is the 1st chapter for 'if you could see my thoughts you would see our faces' which btw is a lyric from my favourite frank ocean song called self-control. first couple chaps are quite short, but they'll get longer along the way.
> 
> thank you so so much for reading this piece of poop, kornelia :)


	2. It's Like My Lungs Are Opening For The First Time

Cold breeze whizzed through the car as the vehicle moved, no sounds other than the navigation pointing out directions from time to time occurred.

They sat in comfortable silence mostly, stealing unplanned glances. Neither of the two knew where exactly they were going, the wheels rolled straight through long roads, motorways and bumpy hills however in the back of his head, Richie had an idea of where to take Eddie.

He didn’t talk much, and neither did the petit boy beside him. Richie didn’t want to create any unneeded tension or frustrate him, knowing he was easily capable of doing so moreover, Eddie would go to the lengths of stepping out of the moving vehicle.  
Richie didn’t want to risk that.  
“May I?” Eddie asked as he motioned towards the radio.

It was attached to the beaten-up front of Richie’s vintage Jeep – which he held closely to his heart, seeing as it was the first big thing he’d ever brought with his own money. The taller boy nodded in return and smiled gently in Eddie’s direction.

Richie watched Eddie’s peach painted fingernails twist with the volume button, turning up the sound of some retro jazz. Richie didn’t really care for the music instead he cared about what the silent boy beside him could be thinking about.

Did he like the Jeep? Did he enjoy his company? Should Richie book separate rooms at the motel they’re going to stay in over the weekend? Were the windows rolled down too low? Should he take out another CD? Pointless questions and doubts accompanied his mind but he realized Eddie was fine when a quiet, shaky breath escaped from beneath his mildly freckled nose.

“You didn’t have to do this, ‘Chee, but thank you. Really.” Eddie spoke effortlessly. Richie’s ‘name’ dripped off of the tip of his tongue like honey and Richie thought it sounded abnormally sweet.  
“Y-Yeah. Sure, anytime.” Richie immediately mentally scolded himself at how awkwardly those three words came out.

“What are friends for, right, Eds?” He continued, mostly to himself – with more meaning to him than Eddie probably.  
Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed though.

Something about the way Richie spoke, something about his word choice, felt different. For once, Eddie assumed, the Trashmouth seemed nervous about what to say. And even though he kept a calm face, Eddie couldn’t miss that his jawline tensed. “Right. And don’t call me that.”

 

Eddie watched Richie’s tired eyes as he picked up his old silver iPhone that he received as a birthday gift from Stanley last year and dialled an unsaved number.

“Hi, I was just wondering if you have any spare rooms available for tonight and possibly tomorrow night as well. Yes. Just give me a second,” he covered the microphone of his mobile with a calloused palm and cocked his head in Eddie’s direction.

“D’ya want a bathroom in your room?”

To Eddie’s surprise, Richie wanted separate rooms.  
Very gentleman-ly gesture of him, Eddie thought but he couldn’t ask Richie to pay extra just for another room (considering he knew how tight Richie had always been on money) so the smaller boy insisted on sharing a room, just with two beds.  
Once again, Richie nodded his head and Eddie’s now-honey-coloured eyes couldn’t miss an uneven number of curls fall onto the other boy’s face – Richie swept them away with a sneeze and a crinkle of the nose.

“Okay yes, so I’ll have one room with two – preferably double – beds and a bathroom. Um… you can put it down as Mr. Tozier. Right, thank you so much.” Were his final words before he set his phone back down on his lap and stared into the road ahead of them.

“Mr. Tozier.” Eddie teased, red blush creeping up the hairs on his neck.

Richie then made numerous jokes about how the receptionist was ‘totally asking for it’ and how you ‘could literally taste the sex in her voice’ and all Eddie did in return is laugh at Richie’s dumb jokes which he somehow found beyond hilarious.

After their short bickering session, Eddie lowered his seat back onto the backseats and took out his own cracked iPhone which was a lot newer than Richie’s but looked like it had been through World War Three.

The sudden flash of his phone blinded Richie’s vision temporarily before he’d realized Eddie was taking photos of him. He groaned deeply in fake annoyance, secretly cherishing the moment.

“You didn’t.”

Eddie couldn’t wipe the grin off of his face as he answered, “I most certainly did. What are you gonna do about it, huh, big boy?” the grinning boy challenged as he clicked the ‘post on my timeline’ button and cackling hysterically.

“I might just have to murder you in your sleep!” Richie bit back, no part of what he said genuine.

He exclaimed a series of _no’s_ and _fuck off’s_ as Eddie kept taking more pictures and Richie screamed like a thirteen-year-old girl taking her school photos. They both giggled then took many more photos – together this time. Some of them were rear view, mostly Richie pulling bizarre faces or his side-profile whilst he drove, and the others were very poor-quality selfies that came out blurry.

“I really hate you.” Richie joked, a smirk planted on the left corner of his plump lip. Eddie could never process how ridiculously big Richie’s lips were.

“Oh please, I am way too adorable to be hated.” Eddie’s smile beamed through the moonlit car. Richie’s eyebrows furrowed as if to say _perhaps you are_ , but he hadn’t dare to admit it aloud – not even to himself, let alone the world.

Richie scoffed sarcastically in return, “Yeah right. You should see me when I’m asleep. I’m the definition of the purest bean, even Benjamin can’t compare. Just ask your mother, she’ll tell you all about it.” He teased, earing a light punch on the shoulder.

They carried on thoroughly teasing one another before the ride fell silent again. The only sounds being the hoarse buzzing of The Smith’s on a playing CD and Eddie’s quiet snores that Richie found comforting.

Within minutes, they reached the motel. It stood boldly. A two storey with a massive sign in neon lights reading: **Welcome to Neptune Motel, Enjoy Your Stay**.

The bright lights illuminated inside the Jeep, reflecting on the sleeping boy’s face in thousands of different hues of pale red and lime green. There was a carnival on his face and as disturbing as it sounds, Richie desired to explore every littlest inch of it.

 _What the fuck man, get a grip, he’s your friend_ : Richie reminded himself.

He looked almost too gentle to touch. He looked like a billion-dollar worth painting in an art gallery and Richie was afraid he’ll ruin the slightest the parts of him – because Richie ruined everything he ever touched.

Hesitantly, he stopped the Jeep and turned off the headlights then hopped out of his seat, jogged to the back of the blue truck picking out their bags then headed to the passenger’s side. He threw their bags over his left shoulder and opened the door as quietly as possible.

Without giving it second thought, he slipped his long, veiny arms either side of the snoring boy and carried him out of the car bridal style into the building.

“Hey, room for Mr. Tozier, please.”

Richie told the middle-aged woman, who was dressed, in Richie’s opinion, way too formally for a small job like this, and she eyed him suspiciously. He chuckled lightly at her expression and told her that the boy in his arms fell asleep.

The red-haired receptionist nodded sourly, the expression claiming her face but handed him the keys either way: room number 11. Richie carried Eddie stiffly in his gigantic arms.  
Once they had reached the room, Richie brought the keys into his mouth however let them loose with a breath in which they fell to the ground with a rattle.

Eddie grunted under his nose at the apparent noise that seemed to interrupt his sleep. He shifted in Richie’s arms and the other boy bent down to grab the keys yet again, this time successfully unlocking the door and placing Eddie on one of the double beds, closer to the radiator.

He didn’t intend on undressing Eddie into his pyjamas, or wake him up for that matter because Richie knew he wouldn’t appreciate either.

Eddie was dressed in black jeans and a pastel, blue jumper at least four sizes too big for him. His loose waves of curls clung to his reddened face and with gentle strokes, Richie brought his skinny fingers to his face and swept them behind his ear.

Before any thoughts accompanied his mind, Richie covered Eddie’s small body with a yellow blanket that lightened up the dark room.

Eventually, he was on his way to the bathroom and stepped into the steaming shower after grabbing a toothbrush, grey sweats and a black T-shirt. When he was done, Rich returned to the room and flicked on a lamp which stood on his bedside table.

He tossed and turned in bed, unable to find a comfortable position; soon, frustration took over him as he let out a sigh.

“Can’t sleep?” He heard _his_ voice. It was small and barely noticeable, still, a smile crept upon Richie’s chapped lips in the darkness of the room. Something moved in the distance, Eddie’s frame suddenly appearing beside Richie’s, letting himself sit on the bed as the laying boy switched directions.

He then shook his head and said.  
“My bracelet. Must’ve left it in the Jeep.” Richie admitted, the memory of Eddie’s little fingers playing with the band of it flashed through his mind.  
“Oh.” Eddie startled, unsure of what else to say. “I could go and get it for you.” He suggested but Richie declined almost imminently, knowing that he shouldn’t go out by himself at this time. Especially in an unknown area.

“Nah, I’ll manage.”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re managing, now does it, smartass.” Eddie stated the obvious, with his hands tangled in Richie’s hair.

He styled it with imaginary product. They enjoyed each other’s company, even in the darkest of times and as bad as it sounds, being in Richie’s presence made Eddie forget the worries in his life. All he knew was if he ever lost Richie, there is a highly chance of him surviving in this bullshit world without the Trashmouth.

“Thanks sugah, but I’ll stick with no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello my dudes, i realise that the recent chapters have been quite short, which is prolly cause i'm not used to writing chaptered fics - usually do 1shots or prompts but anyway,, i tri my best and the upcoming ones will definitely be longer.
> 
> thanks a lot for reading, kornelia :)


	3. You Made Me Lose My Self Control

The night went by quickly, both boys woke up to an alarm clock blaring its way through the Saturday sunlit room. Across from it, Richie saw Eddie getting up from his bed with one of his eyes halfway opened.

He was no longer wearing the sweater, or his dark jeans anymore, instead, his sun-kissed thighs were covered with space grey shorts which hugged at his skin like koala’s tug at trees.

Richie knew Eddie was observing him observe his legs, but he was a statue – unable to tear his eyes away, nothing could possibly tear his gaze away but then, Eddie moved with a sudden turn and lowered his bedhead down.

Immediately, Richie acted and scolded himself aloud.

“Idiot.” He breathed under his nose before rising from his own messy bed and leading in Eddie’s direction. He placed his big hand on the other boy’s shoulder, sending shivers down his legs and goose bumps rise their way up his arms.

“I’m sorry, for… um… staring.” Eddie has yet to tell him about Jake or why he needed to escape Derry, not yet. His thoughts tied with his shaky breathing, up, down, up, down. Eddie felt a warm breath on the crook of his neck and shoulder.

“Don’t be, no biggie.” Out of the blue, he twirled around to face Richie and playfully poked a freckle on his nose, “Forget about it.” He assured the taller boy with a smile and certain eyes.  
Now, they were standing too close, their chests against each other’s, eyes interlocked.

But then reality caught up to them and they parted, not letting themselves think anything of the situation. Richie scratched the back of his neck nervously, and Eddie played with the strings of his shorts as he waited for Richie to say something, anything to break the silence between them.

As if one cue, he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. They were too stuck in the moment.  
“I’m going to take a shower.” Eddie broke the tension, sounding more like a question and Richie nodded.  
“Yes.” Richie clicked his fingers, “You do that, because seriously Eddie Spaghetti, you stink. I’ll just…” His green eyes scanned the room for something he could distract himself with and Eddie watched him with a questioning look on his face until Richie’s eyes found his phone, tangled in the white sheets.

“- Call Bill. Le’s see what good ol’ Billy’s up to.” Sweat dripped from his browbone. Something about the way Richie spoke so nervously made Eddie’s stomach tingle.

“Okay.” He walked out of the room, smiling for a reason he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

 

Hot water droplets caressed Eddie’s warm face, trickling their way down his muscular body.

During his teenage years at Derry High, he had considered starting track at school and lost all the puppy-fat he had in his childhood years which he trained into hard muscle over the years. It was surprising to a few how such a delicate, fragile boy could literally knock someone into the year three thousand with a punch to the jaw, and he nearly had once – _fucking Bowers and his gang_.

Eddie hissed when the pressure of water felt too heavy on his left rib, directly on a developing bruise that covered half of his stomach cage.

Everything inside of his died to tell Richie, to just rip the bandage off but the fear of consequences (which he knew were going to be hard to avoid, especially since Eddie had already declined eleven missed calls and deleted thirty-four unread messages that Jake had sent in the past fourteen hours) overpowered him completely.

Say you walked into a door knob, or something, he rehearsed mentally as he flared his nostrils widely to inhale the freshly scented shampoo in his hair.

Eddie was a skilled liar. He knew how to do it right and make it believable, unfortunately, not when it came to his friends. He despised lying to his friends or what he had left of them anyway.

Jake wasn’t the _perfect_ type of boyfriend. He was controlling, very controlling. When the pair reached two months, he begun telling Eddie things he can wear, who he can talk to and hang out with as well as he always had to choose Jake over friends.

This obviously complicated things with the Losers. The first person to nice Eddie had become distant from them was Ben.

The troubled boy recalled an encounter they had one time during a study session at Franny’s Café. Ben told Eddie. “If anything’s going on, you can tell us Eddie. We’re your best friends, we’ll always be here for you, alright?” to which he responded with an almost-too-quick nod, not making any sort of eye contact, then solved the rest of his trigonometry equation in silence, irregularly biting down on his sandwich and sipping on orange juice.

After that, it was always Jake before anybody. It had gotten so bad to the extend that Eddie was forced to miss his mother’s birthday dinner because Jake and the school’s Lacrosse team fancied a few drinks (with the use of fake ID’s) from Derry’s local pub, The Black Spot.

And when Eddie refused apologetically, the raged boy snatched a curling iron out of Eddie’s hands and pressed it against the upper part of his arm.

To this day, a dark mark lays there, reminding him of how foolish he has been.

Of course, Eddie had always excused himself with a rehearsed phrase of: “It’s a birthmark that I’ve had since birth, it’s just in a weird place and not many people have noticed it.”

Stan knew it was bullshit, because, one, they’d been friends since preschool and, two, he had never seen a ‘birthmark’ on Eddie’s arm before. Everyone knew better. They always have, simply from the harsh way Jake spoke to him when they were in a crowd or in school. How he dragged Eddie from place to place. How he manipulated Eddie into a puppy for his disposal to control.

And it was all true, Jake had all the control over Eddie in his pinkie finger and the Losers club couldn’t be more against it.

Bev and Mike watched angrily, nostrils flares and mouths pursed into thin lines as the couple walked into the lunch hall every now and then. At this point, Eddie had distanced himself so much, an empty spot waited for him at their table near the hall’s largest window – they have claimed it since freshman year.

Bill had the opportunity to partner up with Eddie once in English, however, the smaller boy instantly ran to Kelsey, a girl he befriended a while ago – she was a cheerleader and, much like Eddie, was forced to watch the Lacrosse games.

Richie straight up _fucking loathed_   Jake, everything about that asshole made his jaw tense and fists sweat. It wasn’t entirely because he was the reason why Eddie left their group, but solemnly for the fact that he made Eddie’s general life hell.

And Richie knew this, because he knew Eddie better than anyone. Every morning, Richie watched the exhaustion and misery exploited on Eddie’s pale face as the pair rolled into the school’s parking in Jake’s expensive Mercedes.  
“Bastard.” He’d spit, receiving a sour spud from Beverly and Bill either side.

Eddie didn’t realize tears were falling down his cheeks until the water stopped running and his face was wet. He swore at himself, followed by an irritated sigh. “You’re so God damn pathetic.” That’s what Eddie did best. He blamed himself.

For everything.

He hated himself for doing what he does. For coping with the obvious abuse he receives from his so called ‘boyfriend’, and for the worst part, he couldn’t even tell anyone.  
Not even his closest friends.

At last, he had recollected himself and stepped out of the shower. When he looked at himself in the steam-covered mirror, he saw a broken toy. A helpless, afraid soul, trapped in his worries and the only time he ever escaped was when he was away from the guy holding him back from a normal life. Eddie had always thought his mother was a monster, little did he know monsters wore young, attractive and false trustworthy faces with short, black hair, styled in a perfect quiff.

“You’re eighteen years old. You’re about to leave for collage, you’ll be fine. You’re independent, brave. You’ve got this.” Eddie said to himself, not believing a single word he had spoken, but continued either way.  
“You’ve got your mom, Kelsey… and the Losers… _Richie_.” He smiled at the thought of his name. Being stuck in the bathroom for so long made him forget that the boy that occupied his mind was next door. His body released with a lonesome breath.

In the distance, he heard Richie speak on the phone.  
Was it to Bill? Who knew, but he knew that he wasn’t supposed to hear their conversation.

It started of with Richie shouting, “Ah! How’s my favourite Loser doing? Oh, fuck you Billiam, you know you love me.” Eddie found himself eavesdropping, his right ear pressed against the wooden door which separated them.

They poke about boring stuff like work and Eddie found that they have an upcoming charity event at Stan’s bakery which the poor guy has been stressing about massively – according to Bill’s complains.

Being in the Losers club meant he had to attend every event according to their jobs and or school life.

And even though Eddie didn’t personally work at the bakery, he still volunteered to help out every time, it was a lot of fun because the group would always eat leftovers and cuddle up in the back of the building where they have their own personal ‘theatre’ which really consists of seven beanbags, a projector and a mini-freezer for drinks and ice cream.

Eddie tried not to think about Derry, or Jake, at this time and avoided the thought of arguing with his boyfriend to allow him to see his friends. So instead, the five-foot-six teenager decided to eavesdrop more on Bill’s and Richie’s conversation.

The dark-haired boy’s voice dropped quieter, as if he knew Eddie was listening. He shook the thought off and continued. Either way, whatever he heard next took him aback:

“What the fuck am I supposed to do, how could I go about it? I mean, I don’t even know anything about… love… or dating, or any of that sappy shit you and Stan always do – which is so gay, by the way.” Eddie heard Richie joke.

From knowing Richie for all these years, he knew that in situations like this, the only way he escaped from discomfort or uncomfortableness is by cracking jokes.

Wait. Was he talking about him? He couldn’t.

Most probably some random chick he’d been seeing, and the subject just hasn’t come up, Eddie thought, a thick bubble growing in his throat. Richie was aware that Eddie was in a relationship, (maybe not the best one, but still a relationship) so it couldn’t be about him.

It just couldn’t. But then… if it wasn’t him, it was someone else.

“Man, you should’ve seen how fucking cute he looked in my arms. And he smelled so nice too – no, not right now – Bill I don’t fucking know what cologne he uses, that’s really beside the point. Anyway, what I wanted to say was, he has a boyfriend. He may be the biggest ass, but it’s still someone. Someone else. There’s no point.”

Richie sounded startled, uncertain about his word choice and mostly, wrecked.

Suddenly, Eddie felt hot. He felt his cheeks become crimson, and a fresh layer of sweat cover his bare chest. His breaths hitched in the back of his throat, and his Adam’s apple bopped when he started hiccupping.

All of the information he had gathered so far led towards him: shit boyfriend, was in his arms a few hours ago, is a male. But then again, Richie could’ve carried someone else at a different time and he didn’t get a chance to tell Bill yet so he’s telling the stuttering boy now.

Don’t fool yourself, Eddie. Don’t be stupid because you know it’s about you.  
- _His mind betrayed him._

But he refused to believe. He refused to believe Richie had feelings for him.

Firstly, they’d been friends since forever, and when feelings get in between of a friendship, it’s never a good outcome. Secondly, and previously mentioned, Eddie was in a relationship and already had a partner. And thirdly, and most importantly, Eddie might’ve just been afraid that he felt the same way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good day, my lovely dudes. i hope ya'll had a look at the title of this chap and... realised the connection. oh yeah, if anyone was wondering, my tumblr is @eddskaspp and i don't post much, but i reblog and like some 10/10 good shit.
> 
> thanks for carrying on reading this mess, kornelia :)


End file.
